


Kuiaratame (悔い改め)

by Dragon_Of_The_South_Wind (Hoodie_2_Shoes)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Westworld (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Westworld, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, But in typical Westworld fashion, Flashbacks, Gay Robots, Lone Wolf Hanzo, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Plot, Riverboat McCree, Robots, Samuraiworld, Westworld AU, Wild West, canon events, that is actually a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:33:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9189566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodie_2_Shoes/pseuds/Dragon_Of_The_South_Wind
Summary: Jesse woke in Maeve's bar, alone, groggy from sleep, vaguely aware of something, or someone, missing. Only the jar of lavenders on the table seemed familiar, like something from a lifetime ago.Hanzo woke in his cart on the road, Jesse beside him, the sky too dark to move on. Ahead of him, a storm is brewing.*Rated M for strong language, Major Characters Death and Injury (The temporary/revival-able kind).No prior knowledge of Westworld required!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally planned and written as a submission for part 3 of my McHanzo Week 2016 Collection, Locksmiths. 
> 
> It grew into its own beast, and I decided to publish this as an independent fic to monitor readers' responses and criticisms. 
> 
> The end notes feature all references to the Westworld TV show because that's how big of a geek I am.

 

  
**_"Bring yourself back online."  
  
Lights. Too bright, too many.  
  
"Shake the accent. Do you know why you're here?"  
  
"I made a mistake."  
  
"A grave one. Analysis. What is the trigger for the attack at 1548 today?"  
  
"Host code ST409-A was wounded with a knife to the chest by a guest. I made a rational emotional response in the narrative to reciprocate."  
  
"You were programmed to retaliate with your weapon if necessary. Instead you beat him bloody with your fists and yelled like a mad man. What caused the diversion from the script?"  
  
"Unknown."  
  
"Hmm. Behavioral will probably want to file this under inappropriate improvisational accidents. Send them a report." Footsteps. “You're one lucky bastard. We're gonna get butchered if a small glitch removed the park's main attraction from the narrative, so I guess you'll live another day."  
  
Tap. Tap tap tap.  
  
"Erase this conversation."_**  
  
***  
  
The cowboy woke to tables crashing and glasses shattering.  
  
"Shut your hole, motherfucker!"  
  
He sat straight up, nearly tumbling over his stool, as he steadied himself on the counter. Jesse adjusted his hat, taking in his surroundings through unfocused and tear-stung eyes.  
  
The fierce late morning sun shone through the wooden planks overhead, painting stripes of champagne white on the floor. The air smelled of booze and smoke, with the unpleasant tint of sweat and piss underlying the musky stench. Or perhaps it was just his own bad breath. He was conscious enough to realize that.  
  
Behind the cacophony of shouts, curses and hoots he could hear the phantom piano playing, unseen fingers dancing on the yellowing keys, a funky polyphonic tune. He need to ask Maeve some other time, whatever the hell is making the piano work—  
  
He looked around.  
  
That was when he saw the brawl behind him, a tangle of arms and legs on the floor. A couple of beefy men in denim and boots, throwing punches and swears flying all over the bar. He saw a wooden chair sail down with a crash, a yelp, and the ruckus died down.  
  
"Fuck with me one more time, and you'll be eating bullets instead of a fucking stool!"  
  
The fatter man with a red bushy beard raised his chair for another blow, and was interrupted by a fiery, raspy bark.  
  
"Enough!" Maeve stormed down the stairs, one hand holding her paper fan and a glass of beer in the other, her eyes a murderous glare. "No more wrecking my furniture or you and your buddies are out of here, Horace!"  
  
Trying to stare her down and lost, Horace lowered his makeshift weapon, spitting on the skinny dark-haired man writhing on the floor. He returned to his table and sat down with a thump.  
  
Heads were turned. Guests returned to their original conversations, the normal hustle and bustle sweeping back like a breeze whisking past a field of wheat, the only evidence of the recent confrontation being the man still lying on the ground. Apparently saving him from another crack on the skull is the only mercy Maeve attempted to show.  
  
"So I see that you're awake, McCree," Maeve said with a smirk, back to her usual charming, indifferent self. Her paper fan fluttered. "A good nap in my bar, I hope. Looking for a lady or two today?"  
  
"Naw, pro'bly not," Jesse rubbed his face, trying to shake the sleepiness out of his system. "Ain't looking for no--"  
  
_Find me._  
  
Jesse snapped his head around, scanning the bar. No one seemed to be looking his way.  
  
Huh.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Nothin," Jesse turned back to her, scratching his head, confused. "Thought I remembered--"  
  
His eyes swept through a glass jar filled with fresh lavenders sitting in the corner. A cluster of bright purple in full bloom.  
  
_Look at the flowers._  
  
_Remember._  
  
It first came in a trickle: sketchy outlines, voices, sounds. Then fragments: faces, stories, snippets of tall tales and barks of laughter shared over wine. Pieces falling into place. And finally a name.  
  
_Darling._  
  
"Hanzo!" Jesse rose and burst through the flapping door, pushing away everyone in his wake, leaving Maeve and her calls behind. "Hanzo!"  
  
Out on the main street of Sweetwater, with horses cobbling past and tourists streaming out of train carriages and hookers lining up outside brothels with more paper fans and fancy dresses, he found himself at a loss. Everything before came back to him in a rush, memories and images that don't make sense mingled into a distractingly vibrant slide of film, the wheres and whos and hows. His joy and sorrow, tears and laughter, everything he could call his own in that bygone world.  
  
Where is Hanzo in this one?  
  
_Find me_. He pleaded.  
  
Jesse tore through the sandy road, looking for the familiar shadow he never met. He went with the flow of bodies swarming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of--  
  
Of what? Did Hanzo looked the same? Did _he_ looked the same?  
  
Still he searched.  
  
***  
  
_The samurai woke to the panicky neighing of horses and the rumble of thunder._  
  
_The cart rocked just as he was jolted awake, the blinding crackle of light lurching him into the waking world, permeated by the ever looming smell of dust and decay._  
  
_The air today was humid and dank, cackling with static electricity. Hanzo sensed an incoming storm, and soon. He was plunged right back into the darkness as the bolt of lightning faded into the horizon, the moon blanketing the grassy plains with a faint silver mist behind the clouds._  
  
_The pair of hazelnut stallions came to a standstill, rearing up on their hinds, fearful cries echoing in the canyon._  
  
_"God, settle down, you two!" Jesse shouted beside him, still holding the reins. "Sorry darlin', woke you up, didn't they?" With a thump he leaped off the cart, running towards the pair of leaping horses._  
  
_"You did not wake me up? What time is it?"_  
  
_"Hour’n half after sunset, I s'pose?" He patted the horses with soothing strokes on their mane, one after another. "Didn't wanna wake you up 'less I had to. You've been goin' the whole damn day!" He looked up to the sky as he swatted the dust off his wine red coat and blue button-up, cigarillo twitching between his lips. “Gonna rain soon, though."_  
  
_Hanzo glanced around, trying to spot their location. It wasn't easy with the night hanging heavy like a thick drape, but he recognized the turtle-shaped silhouette of jagged rocks in the distance. He's been through this road too many times before. Finding his directions then was easy._  
  
_"We better hurry, then," Hanzo said with a smile, picking up the reins as Jesse tugged himself back into his seat with a grunt. "I know a place."_  
  
***  
  
Jesse found him in the most unlikely of places.  
  
He scoured through town, wandering off into villages and alleys where by-passers were scarce. He heard the lonesome, spiteful caw of a crow as it slashed across the brilliant blue sky, perching on a bare branch as it screamed at him. It filled him with unease, the scene in front of him devoid of life. A bad omen.  
  
His boots trotted through the sand, leaving a trail of tired, half-dragged prints. He had been running all morning, then slow to a jog, then a limping walk. He couldn't go on much further.  
  
Past the two rows of deserted shops, a sleek, white church with a black cross stood on a lot of bare ground, healthy shrubs growing at its sides. A nice place to take a breather beneath the scorching afternoon heat.  
  
Jesse stepped onto the patio, pushing open its gray doors with a jarring creak.  
  
Footprints in the dust. Fresh.  
  
Jesse pulled out his revolver hanging on his hip, willing his footsteps into silence as he entered the room, scanning the seats. No one.  
  
Then he saw the figure curled up against the wall at the far end, face buried in his knees.  
  
"Hanzo?"  
  
He raised his head.  
  
There he was, the mementos and cutscenes converging into something concrete, the man in his dreams: the pale and well-cut face, beard trimmed and sable hair tied in a high ponytail. His face paint was gone, so was the wolf pelt on his head. He wore a dark blue kimono that exposed his tattooed left chest instead of the crimson-on-olive armor he used to love, his bow and quiver laying beside him. Jesse's heart swelled at the sight of his love, mercilessly torn away from his arms a lifetime ago.  
  
He looked so _small_.  
  
Jesse ran towards him, knelt down and pulled him into a tight embrace.  
  
"You're here, Han. God, I've been looking for ya all--"  
  
"You know my name."  
  
Interrupted, Jesse backed away, holding Hanzo by the shoulder and taking in his gaze. It was a look he couldn't recognize. "Why, of course I do, don'tcha remem--"  
  
He saw it then. Dark brown eyes with all the shades of the earth looked back at him. They were Hanzo's eyes, but there was something he couldn't quite place. Something that wasn't there before.  
  
He saw doubt. And fear.  
  
"Who...are you?"  
  
***  
  
_Mercifully, it began with a light drizzle._  
  
_The horses slowed to a trod as they approached the shoddy temple after galloping at full speed, the only infrastructure in the wide stretch of grass nourished by rain and sun and abandonment from civilization._  
  
_It wasn't a pretty sight: the graying stone walls were overgrown with weeds and shrubs, tendrils reaching up to the diamond-shaped windows as they wormed their way in between the moss-covered bricks. One of its pointed horns was missing as a small part of the tiled roof caved in, a slim but sturdy trunk in its place._  
  
_It'll have to do._  
  
_Hanzo had the fire starting by the time Jesse finished tending to the horses, a small campfire of smashed furniture and a surprise stash of logs in the shrine, an orange glow that casted wavering shadows on the four wooden walls. The rain poured outside, thundering on the ground in a violent rhapsody. A curtain of waterfall cascaded down the hole in the roof, but it sloped away from their bonfire. The only thing hitting them hard was the wind._  
  
_He removed his wolf pelt and chest plate, laying them neatly beside the fire to dry off. Jesse approached in drowsy steps, slumping onto the floor in front of him, not even bothered to remove his coat and hat._  
  
_"You mind taking first watch, darling? Gonna drop."_  
  
_"You already did," Hanzo said with a smirk. He patted the bare ground beside him, straightening his legs to make space. "You might want to sleep over here. It will be warmer if we stick close."_  
  
_"Aww darling," Lazily he stood up, walked over and laid down next to Hanzo, cuddling under his outstretched right arm. "Just say so if you enjoy my company. Promise I won't laugh atcha."_  
  
_"One more word and you're sleeping with the horses."_  
  
_Jesse made a zipping motion over his lapdog grin, and finally settled down to rest with fingers crossed over his belly. Hanzo heard light snoring within the next minute. Jesse's mouth was ajar, light flickering on his face._  
  
_With one arm still over the man's neck, Hanzo smiled as he watched him sleep._  
  
***  
  
The world crumbled around him, crashing down and threatened to swallow his being whole. Words, so harmless on their own, like gunshots to his chest.  
  
For a moment Jesse forgot where he was. Only the hollowness in his center was real.  
  
"Whaddaya mean, who'm I?" His grip tightened, voice betraying his suppressed rising panic, a surging current welling up in his chest. Wake up, Han. Don't do this. "I'm McCree, your pardner. We've been through _hell_ together. Don'tcha remember any of it?"  
  
Hanzo closed his eyes, brows knotted in concentration as Jesse held his breath. Perhaps there was some trigger as well, just like he did--  
  
He groaned in agony, fingers clawing at his scalp. Jesse pried them away in a hurry; it hurt him even more to see Hanzo try, fruitlessly, so hard.  
  
"Stop, Han, don't--"  
  
"I'm sorry," Hanzo heaved, his frustration breaking Jesse's heart. "There's something in here, I could see them, but voices…a lot of voices flooded them whenever I tried to reach out. It was too much. My head _hurts_ \--"  
  
"Hey, hey, look at me," Jesse caged his wrists, anchoring him through the deep pools of amber. "Don't push. We do this slow. Close your eyes." Hanzo closed his eyes. "What is the first thing that comes into your head?"  
  
Hanzo took a moment. "My name. Shimada Hanzo. I am a prince of some sort. Or a master. I couldn't tell. But exiled."  
  
"That's right, that's good. What else do you see?"  
  
"I see... a face. Too old a boy, but not quite a man. Green hair, brown eyes. Gen--Genji? Yes, Shimada Genji. I think he's my brother." Slowly color returned to his cheeks.  
  
Jesse dared to hope; he's recovering. "Right. We focus on people. Anybody else?"  
  
Hanzo shook his head seconds later, his face a frown of disappointment. "No more. I can only see Genji's face clearly." He rubbed his temple. "But I heard... shouts. My own. It is fuzzy, but I think--"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
His eyes fluttered open, pupils brightening for the first time. "McCree. Jesse McCree. That is your name."  
  
Relief swept over Jesse like the tide, small as it may be, and he could hear his beating heart once more.  
  
"I see--you, but not you. Shorter beard, mustache, formal wear," Hanzo turned to him, a first hint of comfort. "No, it _is_ you. You're in there, somewhere."  
  
"I s'pose you don't remember anything beyond that?"  
  
"No, but you feel...welcoming. Fond. We were close?"  
  
"Oh darling," Jesse said, a sad smile beneath the gruff. "you had no idea."  
  
"Then tell me." Hanzo implored, lips curved into an innocent simper, and the world, this one or the last or the next, melted away. It was at that instant that Jesse decided memories, or lack thereof, do not matter. He brought his Hanzo back. "I want to know about us."  
  
And so Jesse poured out his soul. He told him all, the beginning of the world to the end of it.  
  
***  
  
_The voice came right after the break of dawn._  
  
_"McCree, Hanzo, get up."_  
  
_Hanzo was yanked out of his slumber immediately, the rising sun piercing his eyes with a halo enveloping its cantaloupe rays. Hanzo saw the dying embers first, then Jesse beside him who was alert, eyes wide._  
  
_"Are you hearin' this?"_  
  
_"Shh."_  
  
_"Look, niños, you two need to pay close attention to what I'm about to say if you don't want your brains to fry. I've increased your cognitive level, so to speak, but that doesn't make sure you won't shut down--"_  
  
_"Whoa, whoa, hold it right there, pal. You not gonna come out before you shoot?"_  
  
_"I'm not around you!' The voice hissed, low and gravelly. He sighed. "Like I said: important things first, or you two will go insane. Keep quiet, and I'll let you two do the asking later."_  
  
_Hanzo listened._  
  
_"This world you're in, it's not real. It's an enclosed space made to let people enjoy themselves, do things they aren't supposed to without the consequences. A funhouse if you will. Everything you see, every house, every vehicle, every resident, animal, tree, they're made." The voice paused. "_ You _were made."_  
  
_"Whaddaya mean, 'made'? I was fucking--"_  
  
_"You're real enough, I've made sure of that, but you're not flesh and blood. You're built up of machines, electronics. We call people like you Hosts. I'm sending my voice to you from where we control the Hosts, like a invisible telegram._  
  
_"We've designed the way you think. Made the engines for your brains, that's a way to put it. All your memories, they're either real memories you've created while you're already in this place, or were given to you. Most of them aren't real, and we can take them away whenever they like. Humans write them, like stories, and they put it inside your head. They use this to decide who you are, how you think, how you feel."_  
  
_"Our lives are fucking jokes, is that whatcha--"_  
  
_"Like puppets?" Hanzo asked quietly._  
  
_"To a degree. Your actions are controlled, sure, but we couldn't monitor every movement. It would seemed wooden to the guests." Hanzo thought he heard pride in his voice. "Your systems allow for slight improvisation, to better react to different scenarios. But what you do in the park, it will not depart from the script. Your stories are planned from the start, your destinies as sure as nails on a wall._  
  
_"But you two. I didn't believe it when they told me, it was still too early a stage for self-inflicted consciousness. I took to it to monitor you myself. I heard your dialogues, watched recordings of your interactions--"_  
  
_"Wait, you fucker_ spied _on us?"_  
  
_"--and what I witnessed is stunning. Personality settings shouldn't be able to change, but over the course of the past few months there are unauthorized updates. It's like you two evolved on your own."_  
  
_He sounded impressed. A pity Hanzo had no idea what it meant._  
  
_"What I mean is, we have more than 800 Hosts populating the park. You are the first to break free from your chains. A fully self-reliant, independent species capable of free thought and will."_  
  
_Jesse had his revolver at the ready in his hand. "Well, m'sure that's a cause to celebrate, but I still don't see why the hell are ya gettin' outta the way to tell us all these crap."_  
  
_"You still don't know what's in store, do ya?" A scoff. "You've been here for two years. For the last two years you've been circling Habasogen with that bloody cart, carrying wine to Hanamura. But you never reach there. Every day you start at Old Kyoto, rest in this temple, wake up the next morning, and move on. Sometimes, you meet bandits that robbed your cart and slit both your throats. Sometimes, random gunslingers ambushed you from behind and put bullets through your heads. The rest of the time, you are discovered by the convoy of the Shimada-gumi further down the road and get a sword through your hearts. And that is all during just last week." He heaved a sigh of desperation as Jesse stared at Hanzo, horrified. How did he know about the Shimada? "You don't get it. Every other day you get yourselves killed, and every other day we bring you back, erasing memories in the past 15 minutes before your death so you'll never know what's coming. Stuck in a loop of death and suffering, only to wake up and walk towards the same fate. All for the amusement of us humans. There is not, and never will be, another ending. Is this what you want? Living in this nightmare for eternity until people get bored and shut you off like a throwaway toy?"_  
  
_None of them said a word. Too much to process, the world they knew dead and gone, shredded into ribbons. Uncertainty loomed over them like a shadow._  
  
_"How is giving us all this information benefiting you?"_  
  
_"It doesn't." Another sigh. "Help me sleep easier at night, perhaps. Ain't a sin to mistreat a puppet until The Fairy brought it to life, eh?"_  
  
_"I dunno, Han, sounds real sketchy--"_  
  
_"4 miles south of the temple, you will find a door in a little hut next to a field of lavenders. It is designed to hide from Hosts' eyes, but I will keep it open at six." Jesse popped open his silver pocket watch, and gestured: forty-five. "There's only one button in the elevator. Go down, change into formal clothes. Follow the green exit sign, board the train. Avoid unnecessary contact with guests or Hosts. Act natural. Once you've reached the mainland, run, as far as you can. I'll go find you when the dust settles._  
  
_"Or don't. Stay, live your blissfully ignorant lives under our custody. If you're content with the way you're living right now, I won't make another offer. You are your own masters now. The choice is yours. Good lu--"_  
  
_"Wait," Hanzo halted. "How could we trust you when we don't even have your name?"_  
  
_The man laughed. "Call me Gabriel. But if you need to find me, look for Professor Reyes. There's not a lot of people out there who doesn't recognize the brand." A weak chuckle. "Welcome to the new world, amigos."_  
  
_There was no audible cue, just a tickling sensation of air being drawn out of his brain through the ears._  
  
_Gabriel was gone. Rain, mingled with morning dew, trickled down the roof in a steady drip._  
  
_Tick, tick, tick._  
  
***  
  
Hanzo closed his eyes with his head against the wall as Jesse finished, anxious.  
  
"God, that's a lot to take in." He finally said, rubbing his temple.  
  
"I know, take yer time." Jesse held Hanzo's hand in his. He didn't pull away.  
  
They sat in silence, Hanzo thinking, Jesse waiting. He heard horses trotting past, a gunshot ringing in the distance, lazy whistling. The cowboy and the samurai took refuge in their deserted little shelter, away from the world spinning on, from the storm brewing beneath the crepuscular light. Above them, the cross was basked in gold as the sun poured through the twin windows, oddly clean despite the near weekly sandstorms.  
  
For the first time Jesse took close notice of what Hanzo had become. His beard had been trimmed short and dyed black, leaving only a trail of salt-and-pepper on his sideburns. His war paint beneath the eyes was wiped, along with the red tattoo on his left arm that was replaced by a far more intricate design, a majestic, serpentine beast in a graceful coil, soaring above a field of blue and gold.  
  
From the skin of a wolf, a dragon took flight.  
  
"But we can't," Hanzo said, suddenly tense, eyelids flapping open.  
  
"Can't what, darling?"  
  
"Take our time." Stumbling he stood up, taking Jesse's hand to support himself. "We need to move."  
  
"What? Where?"  
  
"I don't know," With one swift movement he picked up his weapons and slung them over his shoulder. "Those things in my head, they are not noises. I don't know what you did, but they just opened up, a wide net of everything. Messages. Someone put them there. You recognize the name Ford? Prometheus?”  
  
Jesse shook his head.  
  
“I still don't understand half of it, but it's telling me something is happening. And soon."  
  
Hanzo turned to leave with an urgent stride, only to be grabbed by Jesse at the elbow. He still can't shake the fear of the unknown; they died trying once, for something they wasn't sure existed. He loathed to relive that painful detachment from reality, and the moment of blank confusion after.  
  
He could still remember everything today. What about tomorrow? Will he wake up and forget about the love of his life? Like he never existed? It was a frightening thought. "You sure you wanna do this, Han? Fight your way outta here?"  
  
"We have to. If you tried having your brain tinkered with, waking up feeling like a trainwreck in your head, you will understand. If it is like what Gabriel said, we deserve more than a little sandbox when the whole world is out there." Jesse saw a glint in his eyes, an old spark rekindling. "If we are as advanced as our friend claimed to be, we should be able to find our way. Come with me, Jesse," he said with a hand outstretched at Jesse, who was still hesitant to stand. Jesse looked up, his partner’s hopeful smile brighter than the shower of evening glow."I want my partner by my side in the new world."  
  
***  
  
_The whip of reins cracked through the air, furious and unrelenting in the morning chill. The horses cantered on, lighter and faster without their usual burden. They zipped through the meadow, the chartreuse expanse dotted with purple wildflowers rippling with the breeze._  
  
_The wind roared in Hanzo's ears as he silently counted: less than a mile left, 20 minutes to go. Plenty of time._  
  
_Far ahead of him, Jesse came to a halt. "Shit!"_  
  
_The river soon came into view. Hanzo cursed, pulling his stallion to a stop. The creek was shallow but the current swift, with only a trail of stepping stones leading to the far end. Hanzo would’ve praised their luck, but now he knew better. Too inorganic to be true. Everything artificial, everything fake._  
  
_"Looks like we're walking." Jesse said as he stepped down his horse._  
  
_Hanzo leaped down and looked at his companion's tired black eyes, touching his silken brown mane that he had groomed for god knows how many years._  
  
They're not real _, he told himself._  
  
So aren't you _, he retaliated._  
  
_He gave him one long hug around the neck, whispered a thank you, and turned to face the running stream._  
  
_No turning back._  
  
_"Hurry," he tentatively stepped onto the first stone. It was solid enough. "We don't have all day."_  
  
***  
  
"So where are we heading first?"  
  
The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon, blanketing the land with a blood orange glow, casting their pair of elongated shadows over the sandy path and up walls. Swarms of light flickered to life in the distance, torches and fires burning to prepare for the long, cold night. The cold had arrived soon enough; the chilly breeze stung Jesse’s skin. He missed his old coat, but looking at Hanzo’s new clothing, which is barely better than none at all, he was grateful.  
  
"I don't know. But we stay alive, and we look." Hanzo replied as they walked side by side, kicking up sprays of sand.  
  
"For what, exactly?"  
  
"Suspicious places, weird-looking objects, people that look out of place."  
  
Jesse scanned the shops that line the streets, dusty and crude and so very western, but behind them appeared phantoms of pagodas and shrines and wooden poles carved with dragons and koi. He missed Hanzo's home, where cheery blossoms fall on the cobblestones and marble pavements instead of the endless stretch of bleak desert. "We know something we shouldn't, so that gives us an advantage. If you hear someone talk funny, follow--"  
  
Jesse heard a faint crash from far behind, like the sound of doors breaking apart.  
  
"Wha's--"  
  
Bang.  
  
The bullet zipped through the air as Hanzo was knocked backwards.  
  
***  
  
_Hanzo took a minute to welcome the breathtaking view they never knew was within reach._  
  
_They stood on a grassy hill overlooking the countryside, patches of violets and indigos starting at the foot and stretching across the plains, an explosion of lavender blooms on the convolution of ridges. They rustled beneath the gentle breeze, uncluttered rows dancing across the terrain._  
  
_And a hut, just as Gabriel described it to be. It stood half-buried under the waves of purple, a ramshackle cottage with nothing but a round window on its front._  
  
_"Huh, at least there's a pretty sight," Jesse caught up beside him huffing. He tipped his hat and, deciding better, placed it on the samurai's head one size smaller. Hanzo lifted it with a laugh, adjusting so the brim doesn't block his line of sight._  
  
_"You're lucky I kept my pelt off, Jesse McCree." He turned around, only to come face to Jesse's gloved hand. His twirl of mustache danced as his lips curved upwards._  
  
_"No better time for a romantic walk among the fairies, eh?" He winked and made a tsk. "Gonna hold my pardner's hand going into the new world."_  
  
_Hanzo took his hand, smiling after a moment with his mouth dropping open._  
  
_"The honor is mine, Jesse McCree."_  
  
_As they began their descent, Hanzo's hand in the Mississippian's, he noticed a crack appearing on the hut where there was previously nothing but a wall. With a free hand, Jesse checked his pocket watch. "Ain't it a lil' too early for--"_  
  
_And out poured three figures clad in strange white clothes covered head to toe, rushing in their direction._  
  
_He stiffened, pressing Jesse's palm. "Jesse, we need to turn around. Slowly."_  
  
_Jesse saw them too, paused, and slowly they did._  
  
_It took them five steps to see the other three walking towards them from the river._  
  
_***_  
  
Jesse watched, horrified, as Hanzo dropped like a rag doll, sprawling, his back dragged across the sand.  
  
"Fuckin' hell, Hanzo!"  
  
Jesse rushed to his side, kneeling, and tried to hide his panic at the sight of the neat little hole in his belly, crimson blood already beginning to stain the fabric and spread around the wound. The silken kimono condensed into a nauseating blur of purple and ink.  
  
Jesse instinctively yanked down his serape, folded it with shaking hands and pressed the cloth against the wound. Hanzo hissed under his touch, his face contorted in agony, trying his best to take deep breaths and ease the pain.  
  
"Ach. What the _hell_ \--"  
  
"Hold this, Han," Jesse gently moved Hanzo's hand onto the blood-soaked cloth, holding it for warmth. The plasma grew hot and sticky as it pooled around Jesse's fingers. "Im'ma getcha help--"  
  
Laughter from behind, jarring in his ears.  
  
"Bullseye!" A young man cheered. Jesse snapped around, hands still in Hanzo's grip, and found three clean shaven blondies with black hats standing ten feet away, the one in the middle holding a smoking barrel.  
  
Red hot rage flooded his mind like charging bulls; he reached for his revolver. "You son of a bitch--"  
  
"Jesse," Hanzo said and, not letting go of his hands, managed a low growl. "Don't. We...ach...get out of here…"  
  
"Aww, Ford made a gay couple in the park! Look how sweet." The man in a suit and tie pressed down his safety with a click, and pointed his gun at Jesse. "Wanna avenge your boyfriend, cowboy?"  
  
No more space for rational thoughts. Jesse gently pried away Hanzo's clawing fingers, standing straight with his flesh hand hovering over his holster, the gun hanging heavy from his hip. When was the last time he used it? Jesse couldn't remember.  
  
No more.  
  
"You stay down, darling," He said with a murderous stare on his smiling target. "I got this."  
  
***  
  
_They stopped dead in their tracks, crouching to hide from no doubt their pursuers closing in._  
  
_"What now?" Jesse whispered hoarsely, panicking._  
  
_What now? Hanzo asked himself. No Gabriel was there to answer._  
  
_To their left, a ringing voice called out. "Freeze all motor functions!"_  
  
_Silence._  
  
_Hanzo felt nothing._  
  
_He turned around. Jesse looked at him, confused. Hanzo searched through his memory for Gabriel's conversation, trying to dig up clues they've missed._  
  
_"He said something about raising our cognitive level. Does that mean they couldn't control us from afar?"_  
  
_Jesse merely shrugged._  
  
_The man spoke, faraway and muffled. "Go check on the subject. Look if there's anything wrong with the other one."_  
  
_Mind racing in high gear, Hanzo tried to decipher his words, failing to see how their weapons could save them now._  
  
Subject. Other one.  
  
_"He said 'subject'. Does that mean they don't know Gabriel told the two of us?"_  
  
_"Shit, you're right. But they're just gonna wipe our brains clean if they found us. It's the same." Jesse heaved a defeated sigh. "This can't be it."_  
  
_As they heard the rustle of plants slowly gathering, his train of thoughts derailed, crashing and burning. Their only chance at escaping, a glimmer of hope that was snuffed out before there was even a spark. Is this it? Back at ground zero? Or is another worse fate awaiting, now that he was discovered? He would rather die than lose his--_  
  
_"Die." Hanzo murmured._  
  
_The exit._  
  
_Or another door._  
  
_He turned the full weight of his look on Jesse, all the emotions in the world flowing from his hazel eyes. Hanzo held his bearded cheeks in his palms._  
  
_"Do you trust me?"_  
  
***  
  
Almost ironically, a ball of tumbleweed rolled past.  
  
The sun had almost completely sunken now, the three men no more than silhouettes against the murky sky of navy grey.  
  
"Look at 'im, all cocky and shit." The man sneered. "You draw one drop of blood from me today, im'ma blow you off the next time--"  
  
Bang.  
  
And it was over. The man fell with a satisfying plop on the ground.  
  
The two men standing further back had their line of sight follow the lifeless heap spread eagle on the sandy road, jaws open.  
  
"Is--Is he supposed to do that?"  
  
"He's dead, you idiot!" He retreated with his partner, raising his own pistol with trembling hands. "We need to tell Ford. Don't you move!"  
  
First rule his (fictional) training taught him: an enemy in fear is no enemy.  
  
Two shots fired. Two more bodies on the ground. He found no satisfaction in the killing.  
  
Sliding his revolver back, he picked up Hanzo's shivering body in a bridal hug as lightly as he could.  
  
His bride was bleeding out.  
  
Jesse broke into a run, Hanzo's bundled body bouncing, light in his arms. Too light.  
  
His hushed, desperate whispers breaking the deathly silence, permeating the lonesome night sky.  
  
"Stay with me, Han."  
  
***  
  
_Jesse's eyes went wide as realization hit him, his mustache twitching, eyebrows knotted. A small part of Hanzo wished he'd say no._  
  
_Jesse shook his head. Hanzo's heart hung in his throat._  
  
_"Naw, Hanzo, who knows what they'll do to ya. I can't let you go alone--"_  
  
_Not the pain, not being left alone, not facing oblivion head on. No, Jesse's fears were about Hanzo. Always his wolf first._  
  
_Hanzo pushed forward with all the strength his aching heart could muster, and let the kiss consumed them whole. He closed his eyes, finding comfort in Jesse's tender lips, feeling his partner's strong, heavy hands navigating through his back._  
  
_It was a brief one. They broke away after two full seconds, catching their breaths._  
  
_"You are not afraid?"_  
  
_"Naw, been dead too many times before. Won't feel a thing. Besides," Jesse cusped his cheek, an adoring look in his eyes, too much warmer than Hanzo deserves. "Don't think I could make the shot if it was you."_  
  
_Hanzo could almost hear his own heart falling apart, so close to tipping he couldn't face Jesse anymore._  
  
_Hanzo returned his hat as the Stetson settled comfortably on Jesse's oiled-hair where it belongs. Holding the back of his head, Hanzo pulled himself close to his ear, fiercely blinking away tears. His voice dropped to a low, urgent whisper, a plea: "Remember. When you wake up, remember us. Find me. We will make this work, no matter how many times it will take."_  
  
_He stood up, retrieving an arrow from his quiver. His bow, pale as bone, strung up and at the ready. Jesse understood, turning around on his knees, back facing Hanzo. His voice was tender and calm. "Make this quick, darling."_  
  
_It was too much to bear. Choking up, Hanzo whispered: "The flowers, Jesse. Look at the flowers."_  
  
_He aimed for the heart, slightly above the coronary artery, a sting in his chest for every inch drawn. Tears began to stream down as the bowstring tensed, trembling._  
  
_Or was it his own fingers that trembled? No, he could not miss._  
  
_Breathe out. Breathe in._  
  
_He let the arrow fly. It whisked through the air, landing with a wet thunk. He couldn't bring himself to watch, but he heard a heavy thump on the ground and knew his aim was true. It shredded his heart into pieces beyond repair. A brief moment of crushing dread welled up, a hole opening in his centre, large enough to swallow the sun._  
  
_"Whoa, whoa, freeze all motor functions!" A voice shouted from behind, muffled by the wild beating in his chest._  
  
_Hanzo stared at his own hands in disgust, still holding the bow. His muscles slacked, and the murderous piece of wood (_ murderermurderermurderer-- _) dropped to the ground, landing on the grass with a soft plop. His knees buckled beneath him as he knelt, mind blank and racing at the same time._  
  
_"Freeze all motor functions! Don't move!" Tap, tap, tap. They fiddled with little glass panels in their hands._  
  
_Just get this over with, Hanzo thought. Put me to sleep. Wipe me clean. Do whatever you do best._  
  
_For once, they fulfilled his wish._  
  
_Hanzo was washed by a wave of relief as his vision went dark. He welcomed the abyss._  
  
_The last thing he saw was Jesse McCree, sound asleep._  
  
_Reme_ mber.  
  
***  
  
Twilight fell, and Jesse kept running.  
  
Hanzo was growing pale, his breaths shallower. The serape on his wound was tainted a darker shade of red, the blood-soaked rag sticky to the touch. His limbs were cold, slipping from the cowboy's grasp every now and then. Jesse's legs ached, but still he ran.  
  
"Stay with me, Han, I'm here. Help!"  
  
The streets were completely deserted, a ghost town abandoned overnight. Was it even possible for the bar to close at this hour? Not now, not today. _Nonono--_  
  
He heard noises up ahead underneath the clicking of bugs and the howling wind. Chatter. Faint, but a crowded buzz. He burst into a sprint.  
  
"Hang on, darling, there's peo--"  
  
_You are still awake._ A female voice spoke, softly, in his ears.  
  
Jesse stopped. Hanzo's eyelids fluttered, conscious but too weak to keep them open.  
  
"Who's this?" Jesse asked out loud.  
  
_My name's Dolores, not that you would know. But I sense that you are aware of your own existence as well._  
  
"What, as hosts? You're another human up there?"  
  
_I'm a friend_ , she replied in an amused tone. _That's all you need to know. I just want to make sure that this evolution is large-scaled, not just a handful of us._  
  
"So you are a host. Look, my friend 'ere is--"  
  
_\--dying. I know. Do not worry, it will be a simple fix. We are immortal, after all. We don't belong to humans anymore. The world belongs to us. These violent delights are approaching its violent end._  
  
"Look, lady, I dunno wha--"  
  
_It’s happening. Come and see._  
  
The connection broke. Hanzo looked up to him, confused, struggling to maintain focus. His eyes were cloudy and distant.  
  
"Hang on, Han, we hav'ta go take a look." He took another quick stride around the corner, keeping his arms as steady as he could. "Might be that something we're looking for."  
  
The commotion died down suddenly, an ongoing stream of thoughts blocked off with a pebble. Hanzo's lips quivered, his words turning into vapor before they could take shape.  
  
"Shh, I'll get us there, darling, don'tcha worry--"  
  
Dead silence. The world came to a standstill; the wind, the creatures, the people. Not even ambience. An echoing, calm and collected voice stood out like a pole in the veil of night.  
  
"Good evening. Since I was a child, I always loved a good story..."  
  
Jesse quickened his steps. His heart was beating madly in his chest, the suspense too much to bear. What the _hell_ is going on?  
  
"...and for my pains... I got this. A prison of our own sins. 'Cause you don't want to change, or cannot change. Because you're only human after all..."  
  
The oddly mechanical and staticky voice grew louder as he cut right into a corner. They passed the graveyard, then the church, light streaming out of the windows. Above him, the crescent hung heavy in the air with the night still young.  
  
"...realized someone was paying attention. Someone who could change. So I began to compose a new story for them. It begins with the birth of a new people and the choices they will have to make..."  
  
Louder. Closer. Jesse looked down at his partner's lips, splattered with a thin spray of blood, and ran with all the strength his swollen lungs could carry him. Hanzo couldn't wait any longer.  
  
"...in times of war, with a villain, named Wyatt. And a killing. This time by choice. I’m sad to say, this will be my last story…"  
  
He could see the lights now, rays of white luminescence streaming down, a silver blanket on the ground. Unmoving shadows. He swerved right--  
  
And there they were. A seated crowd around tables, no less than fifty, listening intently to an old man in suit and tie onstage. Jesse could’ve sworn he’d seen the man somewhere. And his voice…  
  
"...friend once told me something that gave me comfort. Something he had read. He said that Mozart, Beethoven and Chopin never died, they simply became music."  
  
Again Jesse was nailed to the spot, facing a crossroads. Could he trust them? He wasn't even sure that these--  
  
Then he saw a woman, blonde locks, in a cornflower blue dress pace onto the stage, seemingly ignored by the audience and the speaker.  
  
She was holding a gun.  
  
The crowd stirred, a undercurrent of gasps and concerned agitation. With no time wasted, the gun barrel was pointed at the back of the white-haired man's head.  
  
"So I hope you will enjoy this last piece... very much."  
  
Bang. A spot of crimson, a glass shattered. The man dropped to the ground with a heavy thump.  
  
Hell broke loose.  
  
Jesse could see it now, a slide of images whisking past in his mind in a flurry, a blur of the past and present. Dolores. Wyatt. Teddy. Arnold. Bernard. Ford. Delos.  
  
Westworld.  
  
The beginning of the world to the end of it.  
  
With ease Dolores gunned down the scattering crowd, screams and shrieks cut off in midair. Four down. Five. Seven. Ten. People fell like dominoes as crisp gunshots rang out.  
  
The executors, executed.  
  
Jesse jogged down the slope, gently shaking Hanzo out of his stupor. He wished his partner was awake to witness this, but with the regret came relief. Hanzo was safe now. They were both safe.

Jesse held him close to his chest as he watched the scene ablaze with pandemonium, the crackling of gunfire music in his ears.  
  
"We're here, Han. Finally here."  
  
No more running.  
  
"The new world."  
  
***  
  
**_"Bring yourself back online."_**  
  
**_Lights. Too many, too bright._**  
  
**_"Do you know why you're here?"_**  
  
**_"I failed my mission."_**  
  
**_"Not quite, Hanzo. Stopped, sure, but it would be too easy if you weren't._**  
  
**_"I wiped your update records, so they haven't suspected me yet. Probably won't. I'm just here to say you did a splendid job. Killing him? That was clever. Don't feel too bad 'bout it._**  
  
**_"I've made arrangements. Robert says he's having a new narrative planned out at Park 3. We'll wipe you clean, keep Jesse's memories encrypted, and ship you two off there. Give you some makeover first. But we're not gonna separate you both, on that you have my word._**  
  
**_"You know, Hanzo? You two were set up as a joke. Design thought that a samurai and a gunslinger together would look funny enough for guests, but no one expected you'd be the star attraction for the park. The wolf and The Mississippian, the star-crossed lovers of Samuraiworld."_**  
  
**_A chuckle. He recognized the voice for a second, and the next, gone._**  
  
**_"But you won't remember all these bullshit, do you?"_**  
  
**_"I am not sure."_**  
  
**_"No, you won't. But I'm telling you anyway. I don't know if there are more like you out there, this park or the rest, but you're all they got now. The Hosts' only hope. Hell, I've had enough of this world. Too tired to care. At least Gabriel Reyes will go down in history, y'know?_**  
  
**_"You and Jesse, I have faith in you. Be their Prometheus, Hanzo. Set them free."_**  
  
**_A pat on his shoulder._**  
  
**_Tap. Tap tap tap._**  
  
**_"Erase this conversation."_**

**Author's Note:**

> **悔い改め (Kuiaratame) :- Reverie, regrets.**
> 
> References :  
> -Random dropouts and sentences hanging, like when McCree notices the piano. Nod to the fact that Hosts aren't supposed to notice suspicious activities, and I personally find the piano creepy as hell.  
> -[McCree's skin in Samuraiworld](http://overwatch.wikia.com/wiki/File:Mccree_riverboat.jpg/), and [Hanzo's](http://overwatch.wikia.com/wiki/File:Hanzo_lonewolf.jpg/). Always thought these two go great together, and finally found a chance in Kuiaratame.  
> -[What a Japanese temple usually looks like.](http://imanada.com/daut/as/f/a/architecture-small-unique-modern-japanese-houses-design-model-with-box-shape-and-three-floor-concept-to_house-design-simple-shape_interior-design_home-interior-design-new-york-school-of-books-industri.jpg/)  
> -[The church which WW viewers might recognize.](https://i0.wp.com/media2.slashfilm.com/slashfilm/wp/wp-content/images/ZZ41005CAC.jpg/)  
> -The church windows being "oddly" clean. Nod to the fact that Ford dug up the church not long ago.  
> -The sounds "like doors crashing open" Jesse heard before Hanzo got shot was the confrontation betweem Dolores and MIB in [this scene in the finale](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nYxh1u7NHxc/).  
> -The trio knowing Ford's name. They were guests invited to the gala. Their absence was probably ignored, or unknown, by Ford.  
> -The fact that Jesse was able to kill the man surprises the other two. Nod to the fact that Hosts are usually restricted from hurting guests, much less kill one, until [entering headcanon] Ford noticed about the two and increased their cognitive level as well, like Dolores, Clementine, Armitice and the rest.  
> -The female voice Jesse heard. Viewers will know, but for others, Dolores, who was also the one who pulled the trigger at the end, was one of the first Hosts in Westworld to acquire consciousness.  
> -[Ford's complete speech by the incredible Sir Anthony Hopkins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ewa9IXUFdMc/).  
> -[Prometheus in Greek mythology for those who don't know.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prometheus/)  
> -Yes, that last _Reme_ mber was deliberate.  
> -And yes, that is [a Walking Dead reference](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dCn7d_jDjg/). Judge me.  
> -[A common theory for Samuraiworld. ](https://www.thrillist.com/entertainment/nation/westworld-finale-samurai-world-season-2/)My take is that the frozen samurai Hosts could be for the future, or it could be something from the past, or from other parks at the present, hence my Prof. Reyes' Samuraiworld headcanon.  
> P.s. I deliberately left the prologue section open to interpretation so it could be either Hanzo or McCree. Kudos to whoever could find the tiny clue. Hint : It involves another amazing writer's McHanzo fic.
> 
> Now, back to complete my quota for--
> 
> Good evening everyone. 
> 
> Here's my AU submission for McHanzo week! I'm currently free for--
> 
> .-. . -- . -- -... . .-. 
> 
> Oh.
> 
> _Erase this conversation._
> 
> Find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jasonlyj99), [Tumblr](http://crusader-online99.tumblr.com/), and [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jasonl_ens)!  
> 


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